At what was really nothing more than a football match where murder was sanctioned.
My other memories of that war are of the the young lad from a school in which I taught who had been sent out, fresh from training to fight, never to return. I felt the paternal feeling one develops, as a teacher, for one's charges and, from that time onward harbour a cold contempt for all the Thatchers and the Blairs who turn our planet into a hell on earth.
My other memories of that war are of the the young lad from a school in which I taught who had been sent out, fresh from training to fight, never to return. I felt the paternal feeling one develops, as a teacher, for one's charges and, from that time onward harbour a cold contempt for all the Thatchers and the Blairs who turn our planet into a hell on earth.
Today, I hear that still the veterans of that war continue to suffer the after-effects. And that far more have died since by their own hands than ever did in the Falkands/Malvinas. So much for all the filth and psychic poison being pumped out by the whores of the MSM.
THAT is the reality of pro patria mori.
THAT is the reality of pro patria mori.
MALVINAS BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY
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